Nume3rs
Drabble: David and comb
Disclaimer: No I don't own any of it.
Notes: Based off of a scene in season six. Placed about One year after the end of the series.
Habit
"Hey Sinclair!" David paused as he passed Agent Daniels desk.
"I just wanted to return your comb." The woman said with a smile. "Though I admit to being curious as to why you had one."
David chuckled and ran a hand over his bald head. "Just habit I suppose. Sorry to run, but I have to get these files to Jones ASAP." He moved on ignoring her lingering gaze on his back.
A hallway and a corner later he paused again, hand drifting up of its own accord to rest over the pocket where the comb once again resided. Why was he still carting around this piece of plastic?
Colby had started it all. The man had been in the army and the bureau for years and yet, no matter how often his hair got into a poofed up mess like it had just tried to dance the mambo by itself every time they had to chase down a suspect, the man could never seem to remember to carry one. So, being the sensible partner he was, David had started carrying one for him.
He had been in DC for over a year now and hadn't seen his 'girlfriend' in as long so there was no reason for him to continue to slip the small bit of black plastic into his jacket pocket every morning. And yet…he had never quite been able to leave his apartment without it.
It was a symbol, a reminder, of the best partnership he had ever had. A memory of his team and friends back in California and he liked keeping it close by even if it was just a sentimental thought.
The comb might only be a fragile piece of plastic but it reminded him that no matter what went down, no matter how bad things got, or how great the distance in between, that he would always have someone to count on to get his back if he really needed it. Just as Colby and the others could always count on him in return.
David Sinclair continued down the hall with a bright smile on his face. He might still be getting used to DC and starting to forge new bonds of friendship and camaraderie but no matter what happened here he knew there would always be a man, in need of a comb, to back him up.
END